


Find a heart and catch your breath

by evie_everyday



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: BAMF!Merlin, Canon Era, Court Sorcerer Merlin (Merlin), Deal With It, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pining Arthur, and his creepy castle, and his creepy subjects, but i was bombarded with an actual plot, eventually, for no discernable reason, it doesn't really matter tho they have bigger problems on their hands, like a creepy king, look all i wanted was to write a fake relationship au, of course since i can't write anything else, so this is half fluff/half plot, there's a lot of, this story isn't creepy tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25264057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evie_everyday/pseuds/evie_everyday
Summary: Arthur has nearly brought on the Golden Age he is destined to build. With Merlin and the Knights at his side, they make their way to Sardonaa, a kingdom whose hostility with Camelot is older than Arthur, to attend a long-awaited peace confrence.They are warned of Drell, the eccentric king of Sardonna, and his less than amicable intentions, and Arthur and Merlin decide to fake a relationship so Merlin can remain by Arthur's side without arousing suspicion.But as the people of Sardonaa grow stranger and Drell's true reason for holding the confrence is brought to light, it will take everything Arthur and his *ahem* consort have to keep the peace they have tried so hard to build safe.**Seven chapters planned for the story, updates every tuesday! (allegedly. we'll have to see what the gods decree)
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 99





	1. In Which Merlin Becomes Arthur's "Consort" for Indiscernable Reasons

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh my first multi-chapter! You guys have been so so cool about the one-shots I've posted, and I'm venturing out into something a bit longer. I have seven chapters plotted at the moment, and I'm trying my best to balance the fluff I originally intended this fic to consist of with a little bit more plot than my other fics have had. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! I should have the next chapter up between now and the end of the world, we'll see.
> 
> The title comes from AURORA's song "Soft Universe:"  
> "Chaos came, we laid our head  
> down on the feather cotton bed  
> you find a heart and catch your breath  
> let the universe go red"

The sun was beating down as spring turned into summer, but that was not why Arthur Pendragon’s face was red. No, it was not the unbearable heat or still air that made his skin flush as he glared at his absolutely inept Court Sorcerer. 

“ _ Mer _ -lin!” he exclaimed, drawing the attention of the rest of his knights as Merlin turned to give him the most innocent look he could. Gwaine cackled in the background as Arthur pulled his horse up beside Merlin’s and proceeded to flick his neck. 

“Ow!” Merlin protested, entirely undignified, but Arthur saw the gleam in his eyes that meant he was enjoying this far, far too much. “You do realize I could level the entirety of Camelot if you make me angry?” 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You who cry over squirrels on hunts, leveling our kingdom? Don’t be ridiculous.” 

Merlin knocked their knees together. “Oh,  _ our _ kingdom? It’s  _ our _ kingdom now?” 

“Shut up,  _ Mer _ -lin.” With his lips twitching at the corners, Merlin lowered Arthur’s waterskin from where it had hovered over their heads for the past ten minutes. As Arthur reached for it, Merlin’s eyes flashed for just an instant, and water trickled over Arthur like his own momentary rainstorm. 

“ _ Mer _ -lin!” It was so, so undignified to be acting like this on a political venture, especially one headed to a peace conference in a hostile kingdom, but Arthur couldn’t hide the happiness in his eyes as Merlin dug his heels into Daisy and went a bit ahead. The last year had been so busy with the laws changing and striving for peace, and Arthur could never have imagined he would feel so happy even in the midst of it all. 

Then Arthur felt a tight squeeze of his wrist, where he wore a thin leather band braided into a bracelet, and instinctively raised his hand to stop the knights. A moment of total silence passed with Arthur staring at Merlin, who skillfully leapt off of Daisy and surveyed the forest around them. 

“My lord!” There was a horrible, guttural cry, and Merlin gathered a woman who seemed to fall from the sky into his arms. She fell to her knees, taking Merlin down with her. “Emrys!” 

Arthur vaguely recognized her as one of the women Merlin had sent ahead of them to observe the kingdom of Sardonaa before they arrived for the peace conference, and he immediately grew concerned when he saw how pale and unaccompanied she was. There had been at least three others with her when they’d left Camelot a month prior, none of which had returned.

Arthur dismounted and approached silently, not interfering, just keeping close watch as the woman gripped at Merlin’s arms. “What happened, Amial?” Arthur had heard that tone in Merlin’s voice many times, when he tried to calm a panicked Aithusa or terrified magic-user or injured child.

“You can’t leave his side,” Amial wheezed, clutching at Merlin, looking frantically from him to Arthur and back, “You have to keep him safe. He wants him. He wants him.”

“Arthur? Drell intends to harm Arthur?” Merlin asked, his face contorting in confusion as she stuttered half-words.

Her only response was a sickening, wet cough that left her sleeve speckled with dark red. Her eyes grew wild, and Merlin began looking her over. “Have you been poisoned?” She spasmed in his arms, shaking her head, trying to speak, and Merlin shook his head back. “Don’t talk. Let me try to draw it out.” 

“No poison. He  _ sees _ ,” she coughed, “he  _ sees _ . He  _ knows _ . He  _ knows _ .” 

As soon as she stopped talking, the fit ceased, and she took a deep, steadying breath. 

Mordred dismounted and brushed past Arthur’s horse. “Have you been forbidden to speak of what you need to warn us of?” Amial nodded once, tightly, and Mordred crouched next to them. “Don’t try to speak, then.” He turned to Merlin. “Someone has enchanted her so she cannot speak without her throat and tongue being torn apart.” 

Arthur pressed his lips together to mask his revulsion at such an enchantment. He knew that magic wasn’t all bad, he  _ knew _ , but things like this made his father’s voice creep into the back of his mind before he could shut him out. 

He watched Merlin sigh tiredly. “Someone in Sardonaa does not want us to know whatever it is she found out.”

“Let me take her back to the Druids,” Mordred said quickly, his eyes seeking Merlin’s. Arthur had seen how badly the young knight sought Merlin’s approval, and even after much of the coldness between them had faded, Merlin was still hesitant to trust him noticeably often. “The enchantment can be reversed, I think. Someone among the Druids will know what to do,” Mordred pressed, and it took Merlin a moment to nod.

“As soon as you learn anything, I need to know,” he said. Mordred nodded, and he helped Amial off the ground, wrapping her arm around his waist.

“I will bring back news as quickly as I can, Emrys.” Mordred helped Amial onto his horse.

Before they left, Amial choked on words for a moment before getting her voice out. “No…marriage. Can’t…refuse.” Blood trickled over her lips as she spoke. Arthur’s stomach twisted at the horror of the curse, and he nodded his thanks, fearful that speaking would make him vomit. She gave a small nod in return.

Merlin approached Mordred again and put a hand on the saddle. “As soon as you know anything,” he insisted, and Mordred nodded firmly.

“I give you my word.” 

Arthur watched them ride back the way they had just come.

“Merlin?” he asked softly, and Merlin sighed.

“Drell’s hostility must run deeper than we feared,” Merlin said quietly, stepping closer to Arthur. The moment before with the waterskin, with Merlin all gangly and smiling was gone, the quiet power he possessed pulling his back straight and turning his eyes serious. “He intends to instigate a marriage between you and one of his daughters and take Camelot from the inside. Or, if you refuse, he will instigate a war. I’m not sure. She could only give me fragments of her thoughts.” Arthur sighed and rubbed his eyes. 

“So we must find a way to make it impossible for a marriage to even be proposed. Then we can see what else he will do and be at least somewhat prepared.” 

“What if you were to be committed to someone else?” Leon suggested, and Arthur shook his head. 

“If he intends to propose marriage, he will know I do not have a committed queen already. I don’t believe he will find a hidden queen-to-be plausible. He’ll find it to be too convenient an excuse, and that will destroy any chance at trust between us. And there are no women I trust with the burden this deceit would be.” 

“You’re not going to like this suggestion,” Gwaine said suddenly, drawing the attention of the others.

“Why does that not surprise me?” Percival said, grinning, and Gwaine rolled his eyes. 

“What, Gwaine?” Arthur asked, the exhaustion that came with being king heavy in his voice. 

“What if it wasn’t a woman you were previously committed to? Drell would probably understand if he had not heard you had—”

“A male consort,” Arthur said thoughtfully, and he looked at Gwaine with surprise. “For once, Sir Gwaine, you’ve impressed me with your quick-thinking. If all goes well, I don’t think that’s a half-bad idea.” 

“That’s if it goes well, Arthur. If he discovers you deceived him, it could make matters worse. We have no idea if Amial was even talking about a marriage arrangement for you. I might be wrong.”

Arthur met Merlin’s worried eyes, and the weight of their years together allowed Arthur to understand every ounce of uncertainty in the look. “I don’t see another choice, Merlin. If you even think it’s a possibility, I want to be prepared for it. This might be our only chance to negotiate peace with Sardonaa.” He returned to Llamrei and gave Merlin an optimistic smile. “Many others who have been hostile in the past have become our friends.” 

Their gaze held a minute longer, and Merlin ran a distracted hand over Daisy’s mane. “Alright,” he relented. “But I’m not leaving your side while we’re within range of his crossbows.” Arthur sighed. 

“You do know I’ve been training with a sword since birth, Merlin, don’t you?”

“And I’m the most powerful sorcerer of all time. Try to make me stay away.” 

“To keep a sorcerer at you side will not put Drell at ease, sire,” Leon said carefully, “especially if he already intends to do you harm.”

Merlin twisted back to look at Leon. “We could delay our arrival, so that we might have time to hear from Amial what she’s learned.” 

Arthur shook his head firmly. “It took months to arrange this meeting. Pushing it back now would ensure there is never peace between us.”

Merlin began to say something, but Leon interrupted, “What if you were to say Merlin was your consort? It would allow him to stay close to you and stave off any marriage proposals, if that is going to be a problem.” Arthur refused to blush at the prospect after everything he’d seen in his short life and levelled a look at Merlin, who was just as determinedly looking back. 

“That could work,” Arthur mused, and Merlin nodded dutifully. 

“I think it could.” Arthur watched for any reluctance or refusal in Merlin’s expression, but his face seemed to have relaxed at the idea of being able to stay at Arthur’s side.

“When we get there, I’ll introduce you as my consort, Merlin, alright? I trust all of you will keep the façade alive?” Arthur said, his eyes turning to each of his knights, who nodded. “Excellent. Be on your guard. I hope that we may have peace, but if there are dangers to be faced, I trust the judgment of my men.” 

They continued on to Sardonaa, and it felt surprisingly normal considering the looming threat. Arthur pulled his horse up to Merlin’s, eyeing him from the side. “I’m sorry to put you in this position,” he murmured, and Merlin shrugged. 

“I’ve done far worse things than pretended to be your consort for a week. Mucking out your stables, for one. Oh, and cleaning your socks.” Whatever awkward tension might have been between them defused as Merlin laughed and Arthur playfully hit his arm.

As the knights began to chatter again behind them, Arthur reached into his chainmail and pulled the ring off of the chain he wore around his neck. It made him nervous, all of a sudden, to give up his mother’s ring, but he knew in his gut that if he were to entrust it to anyone, Merlin would be at the top of the list.

“Give me your hand,” he requested, and Merlin did so without thinking. He blinked in surprise when the ring slid onto his little finger. “You’re lucky you have such delicate fingers, Merlin, or you’d have to adjust the size.” Merlin stared at it for a second, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Arthur, I can’t take this—” 

“We have to convince Drell,” Arthur said, clipped, letting go of Merlin’s hand. “Speaking of which, we should get our stories straight.” 

They spent the rest of the ride discussing the details of their “relationship,” and Arthur found himself enjoying it far too much. Each detail they discussed led to their typical banter, and despite the adrenaline that came with entering hostile territory, it was almost…fun.

In the three years since Arthur had confronted Merlin about his magic, their friendship had transformed almost imperceptibly. Their banter was almost never without an affectionate smile or amused smirk now. Merlin’s magic allowed Arthur to see him as an equal, and it made it easier to express his affection for Merlin. 

An affection that’s depth was not something Arthur allowed himself to think about, and even as they built a story about how they became close, he had to separate the Merlin and Arthur their story was about from the real Merlin and the real Arthur. 

“Where was our first kiss?” Merlin asked after they determined that they’d been hand-fasted for a year, holding back his laughter. Arthur hummed thoughtfully. 

“Probably somewhere entirely unromantic because you’re an idiot.” Merlin laughed, unrestrained, and Arthur couldn’t help but grin at the lightness in his eyes.

“You’re probably right. Fine, easier question. When did you admit your undying love for me?”

Arthur scoffed. “More like when did  _ you _ declare _ your  _ undying love,  _ Mer _ -lin.” 

“No, it was definitely you, I’m certain of it. After the whole magic…debacle,” Merlin trailed off a bit at the end, knowing how guilty it made Arthur feel to talk about. Arthur met his eyes and gave a small nod for him to continue. “When you tracked me down in the middle of a thunderstorm like an absolute idiot,” Merlin went on, grinning, and Arthur’s stomach did something funny at the idea that Merlin was basing all of this in something that had really happened, “as it was absolutely pouring, you found me, and started yelling at me that you were an idiot and sorry and all that rubbish, and then admitted your undying love for me.” 

To be fair, other than the declaration of love, that was what happened. Arthur could remember the way his and Merlin’s clothes had been plastered to them and the storm raged on as Arthur grabbed Merlin and held him so tightly that Merlin had joked they would get stuck together. 

Arthur’s neck heated at the memory, and it made him glad for the armor covering it.

“So, did I kiss you then?” 

“You tried to. But, obviously, since I’m honorable and the like, I stopped you and said you were too overwhelmed to be thinking clearly. It was another few months before I finally let you kiss me.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” Arthur muttered, acting put-out, but Merlin’s grin was infectious.

They made it to Drell’s kingdom a few hours later, and Arthur watched from the corner of his eye as Merlin played with the ring on his finger. He seemed more nervous than he was letting on, so Arthur put a hand on his lower back and leaned in close to his ear. 

“Sorry in advance for having my hands all over you,” Arthur he said, a bit ironically, as he pressed into Merlin’s space.

“Quite rude, that, me being your consort and all.” Merlin smirked at him, and oh boy, this was going to be hard to keep up because Arthur just wanted to break out grinning when Merlin looked at him like that. Arthur settled for squeezing his bracelet thrice, as had become their tradition when there were no words to be spoken, and Merlin smiled.

Arthur pulled away from Merlin and crossed over to Drell, who stood on the castle steps. “It is good to see you, Drell. I’m glad that you have welcomed us peacefully into your borders.” 

Drell was a sturdy-looking man, much larger than Arthur’s vague childhood memory of him was, and his eyebrows were quirked as if he were amused by everything he saw and perpetually passing silent judgement on it. “It is us who thank you for coming, Arthur. We have not had peace between our lands for far too long.” 

There was a gleam in his eye that could have been genuine pleasantness or something bordering madness. Arthur knew he was probably reading into things too much after what happened with Amial, but he still focused on the weight of Excalibur hanging protectively at his side. 

As Drell continued to speak, Arthur’s attention caught on the group of servants behind Drell on the steps. They were dead silent, staring off with polite indifference. Arthur watched as a wasp flew around one of the serving girl’s heads, only for her to stay still as if she hadn’t noticed it. 

When it landed on her forehead, she didn’t flinch. Every nerve in Arthur’s body stood on edge is he watched the wasp crawl over her face like it owned it, only for the girl to maintain the blank stare. 

Something was not right here.

“And who is this gentleman?” Arthur was cut out of his thoughts as Drell turned the attention to him and Merlin. 

He gestured to Merlin as Drell’s voice trailed off. “I don’t believe you have had the pleasure of meeting, my lord. This is Merlin, the sorcerer to my court. And, of course, my consort.” He offered Merlin an affectionate smile before turning back to Drell, who looked uncertainly between them. 

After a long pause where Drell’s eyes fixed on Merlin, he finally spoke. “The Druids call you Emrys, do they not?” Merlin offered his own smile, but Arthur could sense the uneasiness in it. 

“Some do.” There was something almost predatory in Drell’s eyes as his lips curled into a smile, and Arthur watched Merlin subtly take a protective step in front of him. 

Drell’s next words broke the silence like a thunderclap. “Well, well, before you settle in, let me introduce you to my daughter!” He ushered the woman standing at his back forward. “This is my Deohra.” Arthur noted the stark contrast between Drell’s large, outgoing presence and Deohra’s stoic silence. 

When she held out her hand for Arthur to kiss, he noticed odd lines running down her wrist and into her fingers. It almost looked like the blood running through her veins was black, the way the lines crossed each other like webbing, and he held onto her hand for a moment too long. 

She pulled her arm away and smiled tightly at him after he’d kissed her hand. “We’ve prepared quite a feast for you, my lord,” she said quietly, looking at him with the same blank eyes of the serving girl, and Drell stepped forward to grip her shoulder. The funny feeling Arthur had increased tenfold when he saw Drell’s knuckles turn white enough to be noticeable against Deohra’s blue dress. 

“Of course, of course. Our honored guests,” Drell continued, but his eyes fixed on Merlin as he said it. 

Drell ushered the group into the castle, the servants springing into action as he did, and Arthur decided that something was very, very wrong.

It was still strange having Merlin sit next to him at meals, Arthur mused as they settled into the banquet hall. Arthur always noticed the way Merlin fidgeted at banquets now, as if he had to serve something or he would jump out of his skin. He had already seemed on edge after what happened with Amial, so Arthur settled his hand over Merlin’s atop the table to stop his nervous fidgeting. It didn’t escape Drell’s notice, and the odd king set down his goblet after a long swing.

“Tell me, young king, how did you and Merlin come to know each other?” The hall was small enough that Arthur could see Gwaine lift his eyes to them at the words, biting back a smirk. Arthur tried to ignore him. 

“Well, it’s a bit of a complicated story.” Merlin laughed to himself as Arthur tried to remain serious, and Arthur gave him what he hoped was an affectionate glare. Drell looked between them with more curiosity than he had before. “Merlin saved my life the second day he was in Camelot, so my father made him my manservant. He held the position for nearly a decade. Though, between us, he was rubbish at it.” Drell laughed, and Arthur was suddenly very glad he and Merlin had discussed everything beforehand.

“Did you keep him on to continue your…arrangement, then?” Arthur heard the implication in the words and mustered up his inner diplomat.

“Nothing passed between us in the time he was my servant. It was only after things changed in Camelot that we began this.” 

Drell’s quirked eyebrow made it seem as though he disapproved of the statement, and Arthur had to grit his teeth to keep from getting annoyed with him. If they were anything but pleasant, Drell might suspect they knew something was wrong and peace would be impossible. It was the hope for peace that drove him to pleasantries despite the oddness of the situation, but he was beginning to doubt whether Drell was behind whatever happened to Amial. He seemed eccentric, but not outright tyrannical.

As they continued to eat, Arthur could see Drell watching Merlin out of the corner of his eye. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought Drell was suspicious of him, and the possibility that Drell was reluctant to have a sorcerer in his court made Arthur run through his ideas for the peace negotiations tomorrow over and over in his head.

“More wine, my lord?” A servant asked quietly from behind them, and Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin at how silently he approached. 

“No, thank you.” His eyed were unfocused when Arthur caught a glimpse of them, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it when Drell began to speak again.

“I do have to wonder what Uther would think of what you have become,” Drell mused, and Arthur heard the desire to antagonize in his words. He almost bit back with a sharp retort, but then he felt Merlin’s triple squeeze and let the anger on his face turn to thoughtfulness.

“I believe the mark of a true leader is the ability to look past the image they are supposed to uphold and make the decision they feel is right. Uther will always be my father and a king of his own right, but that does not mean I agree with the decisions he made during his reign or the suffering he caused among the people of Camelot.” 

In a moment of pure instinct, he looked to Merlin. The fiercely proud look in his friend’s eyes made Arthur feel bold. “And I know my father would not approve of who or how I have chosen to love, but it is not he who sits on Camelot’s throne today.” Arthur lifted Merlin’s hand and pressed his lips softly to his knuckles before turning back to Drell. 

“You are everything I’ve heard and more, Arthur Pendragon,” Deohra said from where she sat to the right of them. Arthur had nearly forgotten she was there, with her total silence over the course of the meal. He didn’t miss the flicker of something dark on Drell’s face when she spoke, but the other king stood so quickly after that Arthur thought he may have imagined it.

“I am interested to see what you have to say tomorrow, Arthur. But for now, I am headed to bed. I hope you have a pleasant rest of your evening.” Arthur stood, and Merlin quickly followed suit. 

“I believe we will be heading to bed as well, if you’re ready, love?” Arthur watched Merlin’s eyebrows rise slightly at the endearment even as he nodded in affirmation.

“Goodnight, my lord,” Merlin said, offering a warm grin to Drell, and Drell nodded, the odd light in his eyes returning at Merlin’s words. 

“My lords.” When he left, Deohra stood quietly and glanced towards the two of them before she followed him out. Drell was waiting expectantly by the door for her, and once they’d left, Merlin lightly rested his fingers on Arthur’s arm. 

“We need to talk to the knights,” he murmured under his breath, and Arthur nodded. 

He met Gwaine’s eyes as they walked out of the hall and gestured to the door with his head. Gwaine nodded once in return. He met them in the guest chambers ten minutes later with Leon at his side, where Merlin was teasing Arthur for the “love” tagged onto that last statement.

“Are you ready for bed,  _ love _ ?” Merlin asked, cackling as Arthur shoved his face into a pillow and groaned. “Do you need me to help you undress  _ love _ or have you learned to do it yourself since I, your  _ love _ , was promoted to Court Sorcerer,  _ love _ ?” 

“What can we do for you, Merlin, Princess?” Gwaine asked, smirking, and Arthur rolled his eyes from where he was laid back on the bed, the pillow still covering his face. 

“I appreciate the amount of support you have for your king, Gwaine. It’s truly inspiring.” He took the pillow off of his face and finally met Gwaine’s eyes as Merlin continued holding back laughter behind him. “Now listen. There’s something odd at work here. I don’t think Drell is quite what he seems.”

Merlin put his foot up on a chair to untie his boot. “He kept looking at me like he wanted to eat me. It was rather disconcerting. And his daughter, I have a funny feeling about her.”

“Magic?” Arthur asked, and Merlin shook his head. 

“Not quite. Kind of…slippery, though. I don’t know. I might be imagining things. Everyone I’ve met here seems a bit odd.” 

“No, I trust your instincts.” Arthur thought back to what he’d seen earlier. “She had these funny lines on her hands. Kind of like black spider webs.” He turned to Gwaine and Leon. “Can you keep an eye on her, maybe find something out?” Gwaine nodded at Arthur.

“I can stop by the tavern tonight, see if anyone’s talking.” 

Merlin grinned at him, and Arthur rolled his eyes internally. “If you get into a bar fight and ruin the chances of a successful peace treaty—” 

“Relax, Princess,” Gwaine said with a grin, “Leon will keep me in line. Won’t ya, Leon?” 

Leon had a grimace on his face that spoke for itself.

“Be careful,” Merlin said suddenly, discarding the boot in his hand as he stood. “There’s something wrong about this place. I feel as though we’re being watched.” 

“We’ll figure out what’s going on,” Gwaine said, his voice going quiet to match Merlin’s concern. At the rare moment of sincerity, Arthur acknowledged Gwaine with a nod. Gwaine cleared his throat and gave a rogue smile, breaking the tension. “Well, it’s off to the tavern for us, Leon!”

Leon held back as Gwaine went to the door. “I’ll tell the others about your concerns. Good night, both of you,” he said, clasping Arthur’s forearm. Arthur gave him a firm nod in return.

When they left, Merlin finished the work of untying his other boot. “I’ve got to say, this is actually quite fun.” 

Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m glad you think so, Merlin.” 

Merlin returned his tired look with an equally tired grin. “I mean, normally people are wary around me because I’m Emrys, but now they’re all terrified you’ll set Camelot’s army against them if they look at me. It’s refreshing.” Arthur rolled his eyes, for real this time, suppressing a grin. He shucked his own shoes and tossed them next to Merlin’s.

“I’m glad we rehearsed the story. If we hadn’t, I might’ve completely blanked when Drell looked at me in the eyes and asked me how I fell in love with you.” Arthur began changing into his nightclothes. “And then there was Gwaine, smirking at us the whole time! I thought I was going to start laughing at any moment.”

Merlin was quiet for a long time. When Arthur looked over, he had changed as well and was standing by the candle, making the flame dance in different shapes and colors. The ease with which he did it in Arthur’s presence made Arthur’s heart swell, and he crossed over to him so he could see the shapes more clearly. When Merlin looked to Arthur’s soft awe, a flash of gold lingered in his eyes. 

“When he brought up your father. You—did well. Staying calm, I mean.” For some reason, in all of this, it was the thought defending their relationship that made Arthur’s heart pound with adrenaline. He shrugged it off, going to the window. 

“I’ve come to terms with the fact that my father is probably ripping whatever hair he has left out in the afterlife.” Merlin snorted as he got into bed. Arthur got in soon after, not bothering to make excuses or try to sleep head to foot. Too much had passed between them for that. 

“Maybe that’s a good thing.” 

Arthur turned his head so he was looking at Merlin, who was pointedly staring at the canopy of the rather large bed, and waited for Merlin to turn back to him before replying, “Thank you. For doing this.” Merlin grinned. 

“A thank you? From King Arthur of Camelot? I must have fallen asleep and be dreaming.” Arthur lay back and stared at the canopy as Merlin had been doing a moment earlier so his smile would be at least partially obscured. 

“Shut up, Merlin.”

And as they drifted off to sleep, Arthur found himself wondering, just for a moment, how the castle had fallen so utterly silent so quickly.

  
  



	2. In Which Sardonaa is Not All It Seems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur's first morning in Sardonaa!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I actually got this up on schedule, so drinks on me, I guess. This chapter is pretty short since I ended up splitting what I wrote into two chapters, but I hope you enjoy anyway!

_ Merlin stumbled forward, and he found himself overlooking a valley from the edge of a steep rock face. The sun was barely visible past a thick blanket of white clouds that seemed to filter the light that made it through into something entirely an entirely different, icy light that made everything appear sharper, the lines and shadows so well-defined that the world looked more like ink on paper than a tangible thing.. _

__

_ As Merlin moved around, trying to find a way off of the rock face, the drop seemed to grow farther and farther until he could barely make out the ground through the thick sheen of mist. He grew dizzy from the height and pressed his hands to his thighs to support himself, only to realize his wrists were bound with thick rope.  _

__

_ In his confusion, it finally occurred to him to turn around. But behind him, the rock face fell just as steeply. He moved in a circle, watching the edge of the precipice follow him every direction he spun.  _

__

_ The combination of height and spinning made him so dizzy that he half-collapsed.  _

__

_ When he hit the ground, instead of the pale green grass of the cliff, he was met with cold, damp stone.  _

__

_ His entire body felt weighed down as if it were made of lead, and the more he moved, the heavier he felt.  _

__

Emrys, Emrys, Emrys,  _ a strange chorus of voices sung, and he closed his eyes so he could drift away to the sound of it.  _

__

_ Then he heard crackling, surrounding him, burying him, and his eyes flew open at the awful smell of charred flesh. His breath caught in his throat when he realized it was his body burning. The weight that had held him down before relented, and he pushed himself off the ground and pressed through the hot flames. _

__

_ Smoke clawed its way through his throat and lungs, burning his eyes.  _

__

Emrys, Emrys, Emrys _ , the chorus began again, and he searched for the source of the music in the flames.  _

__

_ His eyes caught on a still body. He rushed towards it, ignoring the little flames that nipped at his ankles and cried his name, only to find it drifting away from him the faster he ran.  _

__

_ It seemed like he ran for an eternity in the fires before they all suddenly ceased, and Merlin was surrounded by dead silence.  _

__

_ He nearly tripped over the body, it appeared so quickly at his feet, and he didn’t need to see its face to know exactly who it was.  _

__

_ “Arthur,” he pleaded, shaking him, but Arthur looked up at him with the same dead eyes as the servants they had both seen in the skulls of those they had met in Sardonaa.  _

__

_ Sardonaa. It felt like a lifetime ago, like Merlin had barely existed then and had existed forever as he knelt, clutching Arthur to him. The choir grew louder around him, crying  _ Emrys, Emrys, Emrys _ , and he looked away from Arthur to find them surrounded by dozens of strangers, each of them bound and crying and begging for Emrys to help them. _

__

_ It made Merlin sick to see them, haggard and broken and desperate, so he turned away, pulling Arthur into his lap and squeezing his eyes shut as if it could shut out the voices.  _

__

_ He felt the eyes on him again, the greedy, hungry eyes of Drell and then something else, something far worse, and then he was plunged into a sea of cool nothingness. _

__

Merlin sat up, breathing heavily and shoved away the quilt draped over his legs and torso. He half-threw himself onto the floor, letting the cool stone against his palms ground him as he choked on every inhale. He commanded himself not to vomit as he took deep, heaving breaths, and waited for his heart to stop trying to escape his chest. 

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice was like cool water dripped over his burning skin, and it managed to cauterize some of the raging panic that accompanied the nightmare.

Merlin curled his fingers, his nails scraping against the stone floor as he pushed himself to a slightly more dignified position. His voice felt hoarse as he whispered, “I’m fine.” 

Arthur was giving him an awfully concerned look, and it made him feel borderline embarrassed as his voice shook on the simple words. He felt a little lost, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room. There was rustling on the bed, and when Merlin looked up from the floor, Arthur was sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Do you need—” 

“No,” Merlin interrupted sharply, running a hand through his sweaty hair. When Arthur gave him a dubious look, he repeated, this time more insistently, “I’m fine. Really.” 

Arthur reached out his arm for Merlin to take. “Come back to bed, then, you great idiot,” he said softly, and Merlin realized the last thing he wanted to do was sleep in a place that felt so  _ wrong _ . He wanted to go, sneak around the castle until he found something that explained what was going on. He needed to leave this room,  _ do _ something about what or whoever wanted to hurt Arthur.

He almost missed being a servant in times like this, when he could slip out and take care of things subtly, without bringing pesky titles and suspicion with him. It was almost funny, how the attention he’d spent so long craving ended up making his life less convenient for the most part.

But he couldn’t tell Arthur that, not when he was looking at him like all he wanted was for him to take his hand and go back to bed, so he settled for a simple, “You need to get sleep. I’ll be fine.” 

Apparently too simple, because Arthur reached for his arm and huffed, “Merlin, I will drag you into this bed if you don’t come of your own free will.” 

Merlin was too tired to argue, so he took Arthur’s forearm and pulled himself off of the floor. 

Maybe it was just the dead eyes haunting his dreams, but he couldn’t help but feel as though someone was watching them still like bugs in a jar. The way Drell had looked at him earlier—like he wanted to hang him up on his wall as a prize—made his stomach churn. And the eyes of everyone they came across—like someone had drained the life out of them.

He turned to look at Arthur’s eyes. Clear and blue and shining at him with so much veiled concern. In an odd moment of intimacy, he reached up and placed his fingers on Arthur’s neck, feeling for his heartbeat. He closed his eyes and felt the steady thump, thump, thump of blood running through his veins.

When he opened his eyes, Arthur was giving him a funny look. “Go to sleep, Merlin,” Arthur commanded softly, pulling out the tone of voice he only used when he wanted to pretend he wasn’t worried about Merlin.” And even as Arthur gently removed his hand and squeezed his wrist three times, Merlin remembered the way Arthur’s cold body felt in his hands and held on for just a moment longer.

Arthur scooted back when Merlin finally let go, settling back on the mattress. Merlin watched the motion, feeling the air tighten as he did. It was a strange, violating feeling, so he pulled close to Arthur and breathed, “I think we’re being watched.” Even in the dark, he saw Arthur’s eyebrows furrow in concern. 

After a moment of quiet breathing, Arthur glanced past Merlin as if the intruder would be visible in the corner of the room. He settled an arm protectively over Merlin’s chest when there was nothing to be found and whispered, “Okay. Go to sleep,  _ love _ .” Merlin heard the awareness of the threat in the word, and even if he could still feel the eyes dispelling any notion of privacy they might have had, he felt better knowing Arthur was there to face it with him. 

Arthur was impressively warm, warm enough to stave off the memory of his cold corpse, but as they lay awake for a long time after they stopped speaking, a cold sense of dread prickled Merlin’s skin.

A sharp clap of thunder jolted Arthur awake a few hours after he’d finally dozed off. He tried to disturb Merlin as little as possible as he stretched out his legs, listening to the soft patter of rain against the windows. Normally, mornings and Arthur got along about as well as Morgana and Uther had on their bad days, but wanting Merlin to get a few extra minutes of sleep gave him a sense of quiet duty as he went about preparing for the day.

By the time he had pulled on a clean tunic and trousers, the rain had ceased and the sun had risen enough that light trickled through slit windows. He walked over to the edge of the bed. For a moment, he allowed himself to look at Merlin’s still frame and get lost in the quiet rhythm of his breathing. 

It’d been awhile since he’d seen Merlin as on edge as he had been since they arrived in Sardonaa, and he felt guilty about breaking the peaceful expression on Merlin’s face. The night before had been strange between them, and Arthur reached up to touch the place on his neck Merlin had rested his fingers like Arthur was a life line.

He almost winced when he set his hand on Merlin’s shoulder and gently shook him. “Merlin, it’s time to get up.” 

Before he had a chance to pull his hand away, Merlin’s eyes flew open, flashing gold, and Arthur was thrown back from the bed. An unseen force pressed him to the wall, crushing the hand he had touched Merlin with behind his back. 

It didn’t hurt him, but the surprise left him gasping for breath.

“Morning to you, too,” he wheezed, and Merlin blinked at him for a moment before registering what he’d done.

“Oh, gods, Arthur, I’m so sorry,” Merlin apologized, kicking off the quilt. His hands shook as he worked at dissolving the magic holding Arthur to the cold stone.

Arthur huffed out a breath that was supposed to be a laugh but sounded more like a grunt. “Don’t worry about it.” Merlin’s face twisted with guilt as Arthur stumbled forward once his magic calmed down. Arthur had seen Merlin’s magic flare up with instinctive protectiveness before, and he knew Merlin wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt him.

Merlin let go of him as soon as he was steady on his feet, but Arthur reached out for him again.

“You alright?” he asked, fidgeting with the bracelet around Merlin’s wrist with his thumb. Merlin’s eyes tracked the movement after a moment, and when he looked back to Arthur, his expression had hardened. He nodded slowly, but the way his hand was gripping Arthur’s forearm said otherwise.

“I suppose I’m just shocked you can wake up without a bucket of water being dumped on your head.” He offered the words lightly, like it was a joke, but Arthur suddenly felt the eyes that Merlin had whispered about the night before brushing over his skin like unwelcome hands. 

It made him feel sick. 

He masked his distaste with a warm smile. “ _ Mer- _ lin, you’re bordering on treason.”

Merlin loosened his grip on Arthur’s arm, shrugging. “Me? Treason? Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“Mm, you’re right. That is ridiculous.”

“You’re agreeing with me? Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

“Shut up,  _ Mer _ -lin.”

“I have your breakfast, my lords.” They both jumped as a servant spoke up from beside the door. Arthur instinctively reached for Excalibur, his heart racing.

The door had not been opened, Arthur told himself. No one could push open the heavy wood without making some kind of noise and they had heard  _ nothing _ .

Merlin had tensed beside him, and it made Arthur want to reassure him, say that they didn’t have a thing to worry about other than settling trade agreements and not offending anyone during banquets and the servant appearing soundlessly in their chambers was nothing to be concerned about.

“I apologize for startling you,” the servant said, and the words sounded like they were read off a piece of paper. Before Arthur could get his voice to work, Merlin had stepped in front of him and crossed the room to where the servant was standing as still as a statue. 

“Thank you.” Merlin’s voice was cold, so different from the usual brightness that he prattled on with. When the servant didn’t reply, Merlin gave Arthur a quick look, telling him to be prepared for anything. He took a careful step forward. “What’s your name?”

The servant—hardly more than a boy, really—looked up for the first time since he’d entered the room. 

Gods, the emptiness in his eyes made Arthur’s skin crawl. He recalled the way the serving girl had allowed the wasp to trail over her face without a hint of recognition, and it made him wonder if the boy would flinch if he swung Excalibur at his head.

“My…name?” he asked quietly, like it was a revelation, and Merlin reached out to take the plates from him. He set them on the table without looking away from the serving boy. 

“Yes. You do have one, don’t you?” 

Something flashed in the boy’s eyes, but then the air in the room seemed to tighten, and it was gone. 

“I’m just a serving boy, my lord,” he said dully. His shoulders straightened. “The King would like me to inform you that he received word from the other delegations that the rain has delayed their travel. They are not expected for a few more days.” Something in the words didn’t feel right to Arthur, but he didn’t say anything before the boy continued, “The King would like you to observe his knights. He expects you at the training field.” He didn’t wait for acknowledgement and left as if he was being pulled by an invisible rope.

The air felt sticky around them, and Merlin met Arthur’s eyes as they sat at the table. 

“What an odd boy,” he said pleasantly, but his knuckles were white where they gripped the hard wood. 

After eating breakfast, they made their way to the sparring grounds where Drell was seated under a large tent overlooking the field. 

“My lords!” he greeted with the same ease as he had spoken with them the day before. This time, he seemed almost giddy. 

“Good morning, Drell,” Arthur said respectfully, but anyone who knew him could hear the caution in his voice. He tried to catch Leon’s eyes where he sat on a bench towards the edge of the field to give him a warning, but his first knight didn’t notice his stare. 

“I presume you have heard the misfortune that has befallen our friends from Mercia and Essetir?” There was something gleeful in the way Drell said the words, and it was hard for Arthur to maintain his diplomatic smile.

“I was informed, yes.”

“It is a shame our discussions have been delayed. I have been waiting a long time for this day.” There was anything  _ but _ disappointment in the words. 

Drell clapped his hands together once in excitement in a way that was appearing to be a habit of his. 

“I’d love to see the famed Arthur of Camelot in action,” he requested with a wide smile, but it hardly seemed like a friendly suggestion. Merlin gave Arthur a warning look, but if there was anywhere Arthur felt safe, it was a training field.

He gave Drell a diplomatic smile. “Well, luckily, I’ve come prepared.” Merlin had insisted he at least put on his chainmail, considering that Drell’s bad intentions were so explicit, if they were going down to the training grounds, and even if Arthur had feigned annoyance at his pestering, he was grateful for it now. 

Before he could go out onto the field, Merlin grabbed his wrist and pulled him close. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he murmured. Arthur gave him a crooked grin. 

“Do I ever?”

Merlin’s eyes were genuinely worried when he met Arthur’s. “There’s something very wrong with this place. Just—don’t be an arrogant prat.” Before Arthur could defend himself against Merlin’s slander, he put his hand on Arthur’s neck and whispered, “For your  _ beloved _ ,” into the small space between them, emphasizing the word the same way Arthur had said love as a confirmation he heard Merlin’s concern the night before.

Arthur glanced over Merlin’s shoulder to see Drell’s eyes burning a hole in Merlin’s back.

“They’re watching,” Merlin breathed before pulling Arthur close and pressing their lips together. For one brief, glorious moment, he cupped Arthur’s jaw, but then he pulled away as if it was a perfectly normal thing for them to do. He met Arthur’s eyes without a hint of awkwardness and took his armored arm. He tied a small piece of fabric to the crux of the metal. 

“A favor, really?” Arthur asked with a hint of amusement in his voice, and Merlin shoved his shoulder before looking away bashfully.

He really did look bashful, Arthur decided, with his soft eyes and warm half-smile and faint blush, and it was a small reprieve from the awful coldness of this place.

“Piss off, Drell thinks we’re sharing a bed. I doubt he’ll flinch at a piece of fabric.” It was Merlin’s turn to sound amused, and Arthur shoved him back.

He pressed his lips to Merlin’s again, this time holding him there a moment longer before securing his helmet as a shield against his hot blush and raging grin. 

Fighting had always come easy to Arthur. It was simple—be better than your opponent. Be quicker, be stronger, be smarter. Outmaneuver them. It was a dance, one he had done a thousand times before. 

Watching someone fight was the best way to learn about them, he thought. Even without words, every jab and feign and footstep told Arthur something about the person he was fighting. 

Take Gwaine. Fighting Gwaine was rough and dirty, like Gwaine. It was almost scrappy sometimes. But it was also elegant and always felt a bit like a game. He wouldn’t ever admit it to him, but Gwaine was probably his favorite opponent because he didn’t give a shit that Arthur was the king. He wouldn’t let Arthur win out of principle.

The knight of Drell’s he fought had none of that. It felt almost clinical, the way every blow felt unimpassioned. He wasn’t a  _ poor _ opponent, not exactly, but the fight felt rigid, like it was staged for a play. 

Arthur’s attention drifted to Merlin. 

He had an odd desire to  _ impress _ him, of all things, even though Merlin had seen him fight more times than anyone else had, other than perhaps Leon. The scrap of red fabric tied around his arm seemed to burn through his armor as a reminder of the way Merlin’s lips had felt against his.

Wait. That was probably the sting of his opponent’s blunt sword slamming against his forearm as he realized Drell hadn’t watched a moment of the match.

No, the bastard was watching  _ Merlin _ , his eyes alight with the predatory gleam that Merlin had joked about the night before. It didn’t seem at all funny now. Merlin either hadn’t noticed or was ignoring him, and Arthur began thinking about how he could end this fight as quickly as possible so he could go rip Drell’s eyes out.

Before he could take any action, Drell’s eyes snapped to meet his.

His sword clamored to the ground as he instinctively raised his bruised arm to his chest.

“I think the king has had enough of these games,” Drell declared, his boisterous voice reaching across the field and taking hold of Arthur’s nerves. 

Arthur laughed politely and removed his helmet. “I suppose I’m merely eager to begin our discussions,” he replied easily, and Drell’s lips curled.

“Well, of course, young king. As am I.” 

As he always did, Arthur turned to acknowledge his opponent, but the knight he had fought had already left the field without a word. 

Merlin jogged over to him and reached out for his arm. “You alright?” he asked, and Arthur shook him off. 

“He spent the entire time watching you,” Arthur hissed, and Merlin nodded.

“I know.” Arthur parted his lips to say something, but Merlin gave him a pointed look. “Do not say anything else.” He walked away before Arthur could reply.

Arthur watched him go for a moment, feeling as though he’d done something wrong. The knight he’d fought was standing next to Drell, the king saying something to him that seemed like an admonishment. After a moment, he removed his helmet. Drell waved his hand to send him away, and as he turned, helmet in his hands, Arthur looked away before he had to see another pair of empty eyes. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


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